


Falling Through Space

by LonesomeRoad



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dimension Travel, Friendship, Other, Teen Angst, Teenage Dorks, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 02:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14369331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonesomeRoad/pseuds/LonesomeRoad
Summary: I'd daydreamed of living on the Enterprise-D. Of course I had, I'd thought in depth about how to approach various issues, how to go about normal life. But never had I actually thought I'd ever actually be there. And never had I thought about the problems that would arise from my presence. But I was there and had to figure out a way to continue living my life, one way or another.





	1. Chapter 1 (Re-Uploaded)

I sat on my bed, my lips pursed at the stupid computer's stupid screen. I was in the middle of writing a story, but couldn't figure out this particular scene should go.

The main character, Jel, had gotten himself into a bar fight against an entire band of mercenaries and now had to drunkenly fend them off. I thought maybe the mercenaries should just kidnap him, that would be the easy way out.

But then again, the other, darker, side of my consciousness chimed in, that would make it too easy.

I stared at the screen intently for a few more seconds, thinking that maybe it would give me what I wanted because I willed it. I grimaced, I knew it didn't work like tha- I gasped, snapping my fingers, I got it! A grin formed as I pointed at the screen. Apparently it did work like that. Because I am stabbing him.

The darker side of my consciousness chuckled, darkly. Good, it cooed. Thank you, darker side of my consciousness, plain old kidnapping would've been boring, Jel needed this.

Several more minutes were spent in a feverish typing haze, a maniacal grin on my face as I wrote Jel's pain. That was, at least, until I heard the downstairs door slam open and an obviously drunk person stagger in. Dad was home.

Grimacing, I clambered onto my feet and grabbed both my backpack and my messenger bag and set about packing.

And by packing, I mean viciously shoving whatever was nearby into my bags. It was the weekend, Dad and Delia were most likely going to be occupied the entire time, and I didn't want to be here for it. And if, at any point during the weekend, he got bored with Delia he would come after me and I wanted to be here even less for that.

Into the backpack went my laptop, my phone, an ungodly amount of socks(because there's no such thing as too many socks, they're always disappearing), A couple different pairs of shoes, some pants, a few shirts, and all my makeups while the messenger bag received all of my sketches, sketchbooks, notebooks, and all my pens, pencils, and markers, colored and not. Because the last time I'd left anything of the sort here, I'd come back to a pile of ashes.

Once my impromptu packing session was complete, I grabbed my jacket, donned the bags, and slid out the window, refusing to look behind me.

I could probably walk to Kendra's house, she didn't live far, and I'd already shown up to her house for a spontaneous weekend sleepover before, besides, her mom liked me, I could probably get away with it. If not, though... I slowed to a stop, if Kendra was in trouble then I wouldn't be allowed, and I'd have nowhere to go. Letting another grimace form, I crawled along the roof before dropping into the bushes below and rolling out the sidewalk before straightening up and beginning to walk. I'd have to risk it.

I was tired, I was so, so tired. Not a normal tired either, I mean, yeah, I was tired and wanted to sleep, but I was also tired. A deep, exhausting sort of tired, a tired that I felt in my, dare I say it, soul.

This was far from the first time that I'd had to sneak away from the house, and, as I walked along the dirty dimly lit sidewalk, I toyed with the idea that maybe this time I wouldn't come back. Letting out a sigh, I gave a sardonic laugh, I already knew that I would, as much I hated my father, I was so much more scared of what would happen to me without him.

Letting a whimper tumble out of my mouth, I came to a stop and rubbed my head, tears blurring my vision. I had a problem, and I wasn't quite sure how to fix it.

There is a way out of every box, a solution to every puzzle; it's just a matter of finding it.

The voice of Jean-Luc Picard floated into my head, putting a smile on my face and causing my eyes to drift upwards, searching for stars. I'd watched Star Trek since I was little, and back then it was simply the idea of space exploration that made me interested, but as I got older, and all the philosophy and themes began to make sense, and I began to love it. The Next Generation was my favorite, and Picard seemed to always have some sort of quote that helped me. I hadn't seen every episode of course, but definitely most of them.

It really was a shame the Federation didn't exist, if it had I might've actually tried in school in the hopes of joining it. Oh well.

Unfortunately the stars didn't seem to want to come out tonight, giving me nothing to ogle as I walked along the eerily empty street. Sighing, I lowered my eyes and forced my legs to keep moving. I had been born in the wrong universe. Geez, I shook my head, I sounded so emo and dramatic, I smirked, perfect for Next Gen.

The roads were deserted tonight, it seemed, not a single car had passed me yet, kinda weird now that I thought about it. Like, yeah, it was late, but it wasn't that late, there should still be some cars around. It was like the start of a horror movie, maybe a chainsaw-wielding maniac was hiding around the corner just waiting for a hapless victim such as myself to round it so they could attack. My stride increased ever-so-slightly but, alas, the corner came and went and no chainsaw-wielding maniac was waiting there to hack the life out of me, too bad.

Then again, if it was a chainsaw- wouldn't I be able to hear it? They weren't exactly quiet. Hmm, maybe it would a machete-wielding maniac, but machetes were so generic, I would be very disappointed if I turned out to be just another girl brutally murdered via machete. Maybe a sword then, swords were cool. Yeah, a sword, I decided, nodding to myself, I would only accept being murdered if my murderer was a cool murderer and came at me with an actual medieval sword- maybe a recreation of Dragonbane from Skyrim.

That'd be a cool way to die.

And hey, if I died maybe I would be reborn into Trekverse. While there were a million universes I'd give anything to live in, Star Trek was definitely at the top. It exemplified everything I wanted out of life. Mankind finally having moved past the need for war, total and complete social equality, aliens, spaceships, living a life exploring the stars? Honestly, it sounded like a dream come true. Which, I supposed, was kind of the point.

Letting a rather undignified snort out, I shook my head and kept on trudging along the cracked concrete, if only.

Hoo boy, that concrete was cracked, like wow, it was cracked, how'd it get so cracked? It was the sidewalk, not even an old sidewalk, I'd seen workers pouring the concrete for it last month. Weird. Shaking my head, I kept walking, probably some dumbass 14-year-old white boys who thought they were being cool because they vandalized something. In one of the more cracked parts was a puddle of water, a big one. The streetlight that would've given me ample lighting to look at it was broken, so it sat there in the dark, the liquid practically black. It didn't even look like it had a bottom.

Maybe if I stepped in it I'd fall through to another world.

Quirking my lips up into a sardonic smile, I lifted my boot-clad foot and stepped right in the middle of the puddle.

And I fucking fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It low-key kind of makes me angry how there's no italicize function on here


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I love everyone that reviewed.
> 
> Like all of you. I love you.
> 
> Also I haven't figured out the main characters name yet
> 
> Comment your thoughts on what she should be named

This was not a good way to die.

This was most definitely not a good way to die.

I don't know if there actually was a good way to die, but if there was this wasn't it. This wasn't even a cool way to die. I fell through the damn sidewalk.

At least, I think I did, I didn't understand what had happened, I was walking then I was falling and it was freaking me out.

Wind tore through my hair as I plummeted downwards, darkness grabbing at me as I went. Not the ambient darkness that had existed on the street, or the safe, comforting dark that helped the stars shine. This was cold and suffocating, pressing in on me.

I couldn't breathe, the ragged breaths I managed to do didn't help. I couldn't see anything, but I knew I was losing consciousness.

This was it. This was were I died. Suffocating after falling through a damn sidewalk.

My head rang, maybe if I could-

Snap

A scream ripped it's way out of my mouth, my now-broken leg crumbling as I fell down. I could breathe again, oh jeez I had never loved air more. Taking the deepest breath I possibly could, I tried to ignore pain I had never felt before radiating from my leg.

Because oh dear god it hurt.

I somewhere now at least, the fall through the sidewalk dropped me someplace, literally, breaking the leg I had landed on.

And oh my Lord was it broken.

Changing a glance at it I sucked in a breath. Blood, so, so much blood. The skin was mangled and torn, jagged pieces of ripped flesh splitting my thigh with- oh god. My vision swam, was that my bone? My breathing quickened and I clenched my hands around the skin above the break, hot, pained tears began to form, I felt lightheaded. It hurt.

Psssh

What in the ever loving fuck was that? The back of my mind vaguely acknowledged the sound of compressed air, the sound that a soda can made when you opened it, but the only thing I could really focus on was my leg.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh my god!"

"What happened?"

"Who is that?"

Heavy stomps rang in my ears as the floor shook with the pounding of feet, the sheer noise of it all causing my vision to waver and a splitting pain in my head. People were talking, louder and louder and over each other. Their voices were nagging and insistent but the meanings of the words were lost. Oh my head.

Pain. Pain everywhere. My leg throbbed and my head screamed. Everything was blurry and colors began to fade.

Not a cool way to die my head echoed one last time as the floor rushed closer.

Oh. Ow. Ugh.

Intense aching was the first thing I felt as the first tendrils of consciousness stroke my mind. Was I groaning? I feel like I might've be but I couldn't tell. There was something warm pressing up on my face in an almost comforting way. My eyelids felt nailed shut and it was a few moments before my head cleared enough to process that someone was trying to talk to me.

"-any pain? Can you hear me?" A soft voice called out, gentle and reassuring.

I should... I should respond shouldn't I?

Managing a groan, I felt my head nod a little and I heard a small sigh.

"That's good," whoever was there sounded relieved. The pressure on my cheek disappeared and I found myself missing. Something clattered nearby and a small, cold object was pushed against the side of my neck.

A sharp prick and a short hiss later and the thing was gone. Almost immediately I felt better, my head cleared completely, the weight on my being lifted and the pain was gone.

Another groan tumbled out of my mouth and I felt control of my limbs again.

"Can you tell me your name?" The voice asked, I groaned, a mumbled response falling from my lips. I was groaning a lot, wasn't I? Well I did just break my leg after falling through a sidewalk, I was entitled to some groaning.

"What was that?"

Then again, I should probably let other people could understand me. Grimacing, I propped myself up onto my elbows and a steady pair of hands grasped my arms, guiding me to sit up.

Was I on a bed? It felt like I was on a bed, I grimaced, I hated sitting on beds with my legs outstretched like that, it was awkward.

Taking a deep breath, I cracked my eyelids open.

And immediately closed them, oh wow that light was attacking my eyes.

Wincing slightly, I began the process of blinking them open, letting them adjust to the light before actually opening then again, I could still feel the imprint of the searing light and I was not going to repeat it.

With my eyes finally open, I peeked at my leg.

Which was not broken.

I felt my brow crinkle, what the hell? Had it all been a dream?

No, I internally shook my head, it hadn't been, there was no way I dreamed up that sort of pain.

"Umm," my voice sounded shaky, "How.. how did..?" I trailed off, poking my leg to make sure, all that I felt was smooth skin, no bone, no blood, just skin. What the fuck?

Did I go into a coma and sleep for five years? No, my legs didn't look atrophied, I was still wearing my shorts.

What in the fuck?

"You broke your leg," my eyes remained locked on my not-broken leg as the same voice from earlier began, "It was a bad fracture, but luckily we got to you before you bled out."

Something was off, it nagged at me, something was wrong.

"What's your name?" The voice asked again, it was patient and calm, which settled my nerves some. Slowly, I drew my attention away from my leg, looking to find the owner of the voice.

I blinked. And blinked.

Doctor Motherflippin Beverly Crusher was smiling down at me from her spot next to my bed, none other than Lieutenant Goddamn Worf Rozchenko right behind her glowering at me.

I blinked again, a strange sort of 'uhh' sound falling from my lips.

This was definitely a dream.

It had to be.


End file.
